Friday, 26 July 2013

‘What guts do you have’? Neil exclaimed huffily. ‘Kicking
your job at times of recession needs you to be courageous at heart and by brain
too’, he added further.

‘Risk toh spider-man
bhi utha tha hain, mein toh fir bhi salesman hu’ (Even spider-man takes risk
and am just a salesman!), he winked and they both chuckled as Neil wished him
success for his future.

He had left the job in such circumstances where one would do
anything to cling to ones job. Such was his nature and style of functioning -
To be unpredictable at times much to everyone’s disbelief. An impromptu
decision that shocked everyone, even his family.

Having seen, learnt and understood the trade practices that
people follow to the riches that the job gave him both mentally and monetary
wise to those ugly office politics people played to being the company’s
go-getter man, he had experienced it all. But off late it give him a feeling
that his freedom is being gagged and is being reduced to just a puppet in the
hands of his bosses.

‘Time to move on, young
man.’ He said to himself as he gave a final look towards his workstation.

With a sense of pride and a tinge of happiness in his heart
he left those premises forever to the new dawn awaiting, asking to be ready for
a new chapter in his life.

Call it nature’s magic wand or sheer luck, he happened to
visit UAE for a vacation. A surprise planned by his family for celebrating
and welcoming the following year. A bit hesitant at the beginning due to job
search – interview saga, he agreed for the vacation after a lot of persuasion from his family.

Over there amid all the fun and frolic he happened to visit
a restaurant for lunch. Friendly reception, delicious food, nice soothing
ambience and a generous owner left a mark on his mind. He was so amused with
the overall hospitality and especially with the young thirty something owner that
he decided to meet him the next day itself.

‘If a thirty something person can own a restaurant then why
can’t I?’ He said under his breath. ‘This will need a huge amount of investment’,
his inner voice said to himself, thus sending his plans of owning a restaurant
one day to a peaceful death.

‘Don’t come to conclusions. One step at a time’, he calmed
his inner voice.

The next morning he decided to visit the restaurant during
the lunch hour as he hadn't requested the owner for a meeting. Keeping his
fingers crossed and counting his chances of meeting him, he entered the
restaurant. His face lit up as soon as he saw the owner and straight away went
forward to greet him.

Hours passed by as they kept on chatting. From being somewhat
unusual at the beginning with each other’s company to what seemed like two best
friends chatting after a long time, walls of discomfort and aloofness had been
bridged.

Soon the discussion turned towards the business side when he
offered his willingness to sell part of his stake in his baby, his restaurant.

'Oh – My – God! He is offering me a part of his stake in his
restaurant!' He exclaimed. His heart did a somersault. He couldn't believe
his ears.

He committed an answer upon landing back home, keeping the
option alive. A series of e-mails were exchanged before he took any concrete
decision.

After doing a detailed SWOT analysis, taking his near and
dear ones into confidence, he agreed to purchase the stake in the restaurant. A
calculated risk had been taken by him. Getting a ready-made and running
restaurant that too in a foreign land bereft of much competition made him take
the plunge. The only rock that needed to be taken care of was money, as his
inner voice had said. The valuation came to a huge sum which required at least
fifty percent funding from other sources. The rest can be met off with personal
savings, said his SWOT analysis.

He paid the first tranche of payment from his own savings,
PF and Gratuity. Yes, from all those resources which are the sources of money
when one retires. A risk taken to fulfill now what had become his dream. A dream
to own a restaurant and see it grow in size, just like a baby.

The path ahead was full of challenges but it was surely the
dawn of new beginning for him.

With no income and rising expenses he kept on relying upon
his sons to run the house which they did promptly and happily. So his one major
worry had been taken care of. Now only thing left is to search for the funding options
for the remaining stake and to fulfill the balance and final tranche of payment
for the entire acquisition of the stake.

From phone calls to friends, to meeting them, to meeting
various investors, to applying for a loan, he tried everything. But nothing
worked. Frustration grew upon him. He could have easily asked for a reduced
stake equivalent to the payment done but he didn't. For him that was the last
resort.

“When money poses a problem, time comes to rescue”. With
this he bought some time from the owner for the balance payment.

In the mean time he took active interest in the operations
of the restaurant. Be it administrative or marketing, he was completely
involved. From the menu for the day to the price of the dish everything was on
his fingertips. This enthusiasm and active involvement led him to meet many
people from various fields for marketing related purposes. Slowly and steadily,
watching and judging by the progress of the restaurant many small investors and
interested parties came forward. But he kept them waiting.

It is said that fortune favors the brave. And how true that
is.

A land deal that he had entered many years ago had materialized
and the plot of land had been sold entitling him to huge commission. Thus enabling him to fulfill the balance trance of payment and acquiring the desired stake in the restaurant.

Today he is the owner of the restaurant and has seen the
valuations soar and profits multiply keeping all the strategic investors at
bay.

‘Dreams come true only when you act accordingly to turn them
into realities.’

This is a true story about taking risks and determination and fighting against all odds to turn your dream into a reality.

Tuesday, 23 July 2013

Amid butterflies in my stomach I reached the venue along with him. A pull of my cheek and the warmth of his hands holding mine were enough to set aside all the nerves that I had. Yes, it was my first Blogger's meet ever; to be precise an Open BAR (Blogger Author Rendezvous) arranged by The Indiblogeshwaris, The Cool and The Dashing Vinita Bahl and The Bankster himself, Mr. Ravi Subramanian.

We took the first step in, in what felt like a nice, cool coffee shop called as Chocolateria San Churro. Upon reaching upstairs, he introduced to his fellow blogger friends and mingled with them upon introductions as my eyes kept capturing the beauty of the place. A perfect and a nice venue for a lazy Saturday afternoon.

And in entered a gentleman wearing a tee and jeans rather than those flashy suits, jackets and what not. As simple as one can get. And this also reflected in him when The Bankster, Mr. Ravi Subramanian started taking questions one after another with ease and calm. Very honest and straight forward answers greeted all the questions that were asked. 'Direct Dil Se', if I may say so.

Mr. Ravi Subramanian - Author

With few sips of delicious coffee and a plate of chips we kept on bombarding with questions ranging from his books and ideas to publishing to some incidents to his previous workplace to office politics and women to selling and marketing to movies and what not. The discussion continued till our stomachs sent a signal to our brains and that was lunch.

But the questions still kept popping out of mouth amid mouthfuls and he, like a school going kid answering his mom about his day in school, kept on replying without any fuss.

Ah! not to forget the tiramisu cake and chocolate mousse cake. The yummiest thing I have eaten after my own cooking. (No, that's a fact. All of you can drop in and check :p) Take a bow San Churro for that!

And finally came the time to bid goodbye. Not before some mandatory clicks with the author and the fellow bloggers.

The Author and Wannabe Authors

And he even won a small surprise activity where one has to guess the weight of the sealed box. I must admit I was pretty displeased when the entire credit went to him, when he being regular at carrying plenty of grocery bags and shopping bags. (Rohan, I know you won't mind to me making it public. Also have a surprise for you today. So please don't even think of doing the same to me.) :P But a sincere thanks to Vinita for that deliciously, awesome, mouth-watering cake!!

And the darling also had an icing on the cake when she offered all of us a small potlis of gold and silver coin aka coin chocolates.

Coin Chocolates

All in all a wonderful event filled with lots of information for all of us (Wannabe writers) with sweetest memories and an enriching experience one can take home. Thanks Vinita for consistently stalking the author, without whom the event would not have taken place and Mr. Ravi Subramanian for being the perfect host. A small thanks to my hubby, Rohan for lapping up on this opportunity. Also a round of applause for the team Indiblogeshwaris! Hip Hip Hurray!! You guys rock. Looking forward to many more such meets... :)

Tossing the coin of
my dreams, my intellect trundled only to realize that it will be wild to help myself in such a fashion. Looking upon the calendar, noticing the date and arming
myself with a spotless and tidy postcard,
I decided to inscribe.

Few years later

“Dear Samar,

Eloping with you was my naivety. Marrying you was my Love
for you. With you, life was nothing less than a sugar coated pill till you
betrayed. Earth shook beneath my feet. All the sugar had vanished from my life.
Life had festered. Until I decided to voice my feelings. I feel much
better now. I am able to breathe, to live again. It is believed that all the
good things happen after some struggle and fight. So thank you for allowing me
to struggle and fight my intellect now that you have gone.

Love .

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he continued to feel the
pain reading it for the umpteenth time. Leaving it aside for the first time, he
laid his hands on the book titled ‘Responsibility
Towards.’

He went straight to the acknowledgement page to find it and
there it was etched in bold letters.

Pic Courtesy: Google

My sincere thanks to Samar....

His already moist eyes gave away upon reading it as he struggled
for his last breath.

Synopsis:It's just another evening at the Tiller's Club. Capt. Rana, a Young Officer training at the War College, stands at the bar, deliberately avoiding his pregnant wife, Heena. Saryu, village belle-turned-modern babe, drink in hand, chats up with another YO. Her husband, Maj. Vikram Singh, shoots angry glances at her. The flamboyant Lt. Col. Gary Randhawa and his wife Pam chat merrily with the senior officers - who'd guess that they lead an underground swinger couples' club?

In a corner stands Eva, the beautiful Anglo-Indian wife of Maj. George Chandy, who finds herself at the heart of the murder mystery. The murdered woman's body is covered with cigarette burns. A six-year-old girl's wrist is similarly marked. Another little girl shows signs of severe abuse.

Review: I am sure after reading the synopsis you wanna read it now! Yes, it is a riveting and a gripping tale set in 1980s at an army station that houses a War College called Jacob Hills. Eva and George Chandy are the latest couple who comes to this place but are unaware of many undercurrents persisting at the college - From personal equations to professional rivalries to high ambitions to using others as a success ladder to parties and to swinger club. And among all these, there is a murder mystery which engulfs Eva. There is no way out for her but to find the murderer and thus setting a high paced tempo for the story.

The story is nicely told from the eyes of it's characters and progresses smoothly. That for me works very well. The plot which includes too many characters and situations may tend to be complex but actually it isn't. Once you set your eyes in, the book will not allow you to get your eyes of it. Such is the author's brilliance and control over the plot.

The characters are superbly etched. Especially the characters of George, Eva, Sarayu and Bunny. Certain delicate issues like that of child sexual abuse and domestic abuse has been brilliantly handled. Also, the story gives a brief highlight of the army world especially the men although fictional but highly believable. The suicide at the end of the story could have been avoided. But nevertheless a whopper of a plot, nicely told without any dull moments while reading thus making it a sure shot page turner.

The plot displays the mindset of people in the eighties which for me still resembles the mindset of today's people. The line "Under the uniform, they were all naked, a promiscuous man was a Casanova but a loose woman was a whore" still stands true, sadly.

Writing: The writing is crisp and clear without any proof reading errors. The author has a strong command over the language and a clear understanding of characters and their roles which is a rarity when there are too many characters. Infact the characters stand out for themselves which is the high point of the book apart from a good plot.

Overall: A must read for a superb plot and a riveting suspense that will keep you on the edge.

With
a smile, Danny handed him a briefcase stashed with money along with a small
metal box which seemed old but able to hold the necessary. ‘A small gift from
the team who is minting money like never before and it is all because of you’, his
beaming face said.

‘Blue! Wow! This is spectacular and rare’! A
pleasantly surprised look adorned his face upon opening the box. He kept on
admiring those beautiful blue eyes which were once a path finder seeking vision
for that mute but lethal animal called Tiger. To be precise a White Tiger.
After a while he kept the briefcase and the box inside the closet ensuring that
it is locked properly from outside.

The
next morning he was fuming upon reading the headlines. “A dead tiger found”,
“Business of skins”, ‘This has to be stopped. How can one behave in such an
inhuman way? Bloody rascals. One day they will even sell themselves for that
crisp bundle of currency!’ he screeched. Clenching his fist in rage he slammed
it on the breakfast table. The impact was such that the table broke one of its
legs. Yes, such was his muscular strength, inspite of him leaving the army many
years ago. He decided to take the matters in his own hands and planned to put
an end to this organised crime.

He
searched for similar kind of news, flipping pages of past news papers, cutting
out those articles and pinned it on the planning board in a proper sequence.
Several paper cuttings eventually hung from the planning board. Using his
strength of analyzing the clues from the dates, places and names of accused
involved, from numerous calls to various people, from getting the images of the
accused from the internet and various sources, he came to a conclusion and
decided to eliminate that strong and only link between the supplier and buyer. Ordinary
people can go wrong on this but not him. Yes, this was ‘The Analysis Man’ analyzing, a tag given when he used to work for the army.

For
the next few days he investigated the middleman’s daily routine and noticed one
similarity. He was frequent at a night club. ‘This is the perfect opportunity
to nail that bastard. Your time is up, Mr Sheru’, he grunted with a smug smile
on his face.

The
next evening he skimmed one of his favourite verses before executing the
planned action to push away doubts that had tugged in his minds.

After
receiving the final confirmation from his informer, he left for the night club.

In
the back of his mind he knew that finding and killing Sheru will not be enough
as they will be back to business with a new middleman in a short span of time.
But so be it. It’s time to instill fear in them and then plan things
accordingly.

There wasn't a tinge of fear on his face as he was confident of his analysis. Armed
with a tiny syringe, placed carefully under the heaps of clothes hanging from
his body, he managed to enter the night club with ease. He straight away went
to the bar, took his seat and ordered a drink. He screened the place. People of
various ages and shapes burnt the dance floor - Some young and some pretending
to be young. Some swaying their hips whereas some enjoying the eye’s gape. From
locals to foreigners, everyone was busy with dance and drink.

He
noticed Sheru among his group of friends shouting and dancing. He waited and
studied his movements before advancing towards him.

First
he went towards the washroom and made himself ready for the attack. Sheru’s
group was in direct vision from where the washroom was located and he could see
Sheru clearly from here. He gave a final glance to his weapon and placed it in
the inner pocket of his jacket which he had left open. Thus making it easy to
fetch and attack. He looked towards Sheru, paced his footsteps in sync with his
movements and jockeyed his approach. His hands slowly moving towards the inner
pocket of his jacket. Nearing Sheru, he then pretended to jolt forward as
though he had been pushed from behind and slammed into him. Sheru was about to
fall from the push just then he held him to gather and with his right hand
jabbed the needle forward passing through his shirt with ease. He depressed the
plunger, shooting the contents of vial into Sheru.

With
such a loud noise blasting through the roof and Sheru busy dancing, it was
difficult for him to feel the needle prick.

‘Sorry’,
he said to Sheru and went ahead dancing and singing towards the exit. ‘It’s
fine’, he replied and continued dancing not knowing that the deadly chemical
injected into him will take effect in next ten minutes. Sheru’s end was nigh.

Next
day the headline read, “Sheru, the middleman found dead. Lots of animal skins
have been recovered from his place.”

Few
days later, after thorough investigation the team of local police and officers
from various agencies busted the gang of operatives smuggling illegal tiger
skins to various countries. Thus putting an end to this organised crime.

‘Finally,
it’s all over’, he heaved a sigh of relief and continued ‘What was started by
me – a reclusive self appointed vigilante is complete now.

Few
months later a team of policemen stood in front of his bungalow with a search
warrant.

They
were searching for that old metal box which can finally nail the kingpin of
this racket. It was kept as a public secret so that the kingpin is not
cautioned and allowed to flee the country. And hence the series of news reports
claiming an end to this but it actually wasn’t. They played smart.

With
meticulous interrogation of all those guilty, they came to a conclusion that Danny
had left a metal box with some retired army official. After searching many
homes they were finally standing at Ret. Maj. Nachapoku’s place.

Baffled
and left insulted Maj. allowed his bungalow to be searched, a palatial place
for a retired army man.

Few
hours of searching found Maj. in a soup when they recovered huge sums of money
and that old metal box. He pleaded to be ignorant about it, boasted about his
successes and laurels he earned when he served army but to no avail. He was
immediately taken into custody for further interrogation.

The
interrogation was one sided as he didn't reveal much but the search of his
bungalow led to further evidences against him. Apart from that they also
recovered his medical file which stated an alarming fact.

The
medical records detail that once fighting against the infiltrators in a land surrounded
by wild animals Maj. was attacked by a tiger from rear but bravely fought the
animal and killed it before the animal could kill him. In the skirmish his left
leg got badly injured which eventually had to be amputated and in the due
course was replaced by Jaipur Foot.

This
incident took a beating on his agility severely and was asked to take a
voluntary retirement from the army. Though he was offered a desk job but he had
promptly declined the offer. It was not him but his ego talking. Once the
bright star of the Army, now thrown and abandoned just because he couldn't run
and fight the enemy.

Dissociative Identity Disorder

He
went through the roof following the outcome of events. Seething with rage, he
was looking for vengeance to calm his inner self. Tiger being the prime reason
for his present state, he formed a team of people and ordered them to kill
tigers. But later got in contact with wrong people and eventually resulting in
smuggling of animal skins.

But
how can a man of principles and discipline do that? His heart and mind were at
loggerheads. Heart pleading to forgive but mind adamant for retribution. Thus
resulting in DID.

“Sir,
with your permission can we take him for further diagnosis and treatment”,
asked Priyal and the officer replied affirmatively.